Going Shopping
by mryddinwilt
Summary: Sherlock takes Molly ring shopping (cause he is sensitive like that) and insists they pretend to be a couple. But it turns into the last straw for Molly. More angst than fluff. Spoilers for Series 3. Set during "His Last Vow" Told with switching POV's. Now complete AND with a sequel!
1. Chapter 1

The streets of London ease by and instead of amusing myself by deducing pedestrians I find myself thinking what I should say to Molly. When I left her a few hours ago she was very angry with me. I rub my cheek as I remember the slap. If I am going to convince her to go ring shopping I will probably need to apologize properly. I sigh at the thought. I hate apologizing when I have done nothing wrong. I am on a case. I am not in the middle of a relapse. There was no cause for her to slap me, repeatedly, in front of everyone. Technically she should be apologizing to me for the pain and for embarrassing me with her scolding. I am not a child.

However I don't need Molly's apology, only her assistance, which means I will need to say sorry and probably listen to her grievances. The last month with Janine has been most instructive about women. The most important lesson being that women like to express their emotions and feel validated. If I give Molly this consideration I am sure she will be happy to help me pick out an engagement ring.

* * *

The morgue is quiet. Mary left hours ago with the two addicts from the crack house. Which allowed me to get back to the job that St. Barts pays me to do. But I am having a hard time focusing; my mind keeps wandering back to Tom. The broken look on his face when I placed the ring in his hand. The break-up wasn't loud or messy, Tom and I aren't loud or messy people. It started with a simple text 18 days ago when I was working the night shift.

_We need to talk. _

When I got back to my flat in the early hours of morning he was waiting with breakfast and tea, just like he always did when I worked nights. We didn't live together yet, we were waiting out Tom's lease, but he spent a lot of his time at my place. As I sat down to eat, he began.

"I found Sherlock Holmes in your bed." he said.

"Oh. Well he sometimes hides here. It was probably for a case." I explained as I chomped down on some toast.

"Is he in there now?" I asked.

"No. He left while I was making breakfast. And you know what he said before he left? He told me you don't like cooked tomatoes." When Tom finished speaking he was clearly upset. Maybe I was still too foggy from my long night shift but I couldn't understand why. When I didn't respond Tom asked:

"Is it true? Do you hate tomatoes?" A smarter, more experienced, less exhausted, woman would have lied but I answered truthfully.

"I don't like them. I think they are slimy." At his crestfallen look I immediately backpedaled. "But…but I love that you make them for me!" But I could tell that he wasn't listening anymore, his face had hardened.

"I think we should break-up." he said it so quiet I didn't think I had heard him properly. "We need to break-up." he said in a regular volume.

I was shocked. I didn't want to lose Tom and couldn't understand why he want to break-up. We talked for most of the morning. I tried to convince him to stay and he explained why he had to leave. In the end it came down to Sherlock. He felt that he was in second place to Sherlock and didn't want to be second in his own marriage. When he left I crawled into my bed, which still smelled of Sherlock, and cried myself to sleep.

Today was the first day I had seen Sherlock since things ended with Tom. Although he had clearly been using my flat to sleep in when I worked nights. Which implied he was avoiding Baker Street or hiding out for some reason. When they walked in I couldn't help the angry feelings of resentment I felt. The man had ruined my engagement and had used my apartment to sleep off his drugs. He left destruction in his wake and never faced any consequences. Slapping him wasn't enough, which is probably why I slapped him three times and yelled at him for good measure. Of course instead of being chastened he lashed out, taunting me about Tom.

Even now, hours later, the memory is making me shake with frustration. Partly at Sherlock and his behavior but partly because I realize that no matter how angry I am with Sherlock there is still a part of me that pities him. Part of me is worried about his drug use. Part of me wants to help him because, despite what he said after I slapped him, I saw the brief look of vulnerability on his face. It's those small glimpses of the humanity he tries so hard to hide that give me hope.

I shake my head realizing that Tom was right. Even when Sherlock treats me badly, pisses me off, or ignores me I still want to help him. Not just because of how I feel about him but because I trust that whatever he needs will help others.

Despite his flaws Sherlock is a force for good in this world.

Suddenly the door bangs open, shattering the silence. Sherlock steps from my mind and into the room.

"Ah Molly. Here you are." he says.

* * *

**Can we just talk about the slap, and Sherlock's face when she slapped him! I am so excited Moffatiss is giving Molly more to do! This was short I know; but it seemed a good place to break it up. Thoughts? **


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay Chapter 2. These are all really short. Let me know what you think. **

* * *

She looks up at me, startled, then looks back down at her paperwork. The lack of smile and eye contact tell me that she is still upset. I clear my throat in preparation to begin my well rehearsed apology. Before I can say anything she holds up her hand but doesn't look up.

"I don't want an apology if you aren't actually sorry." she says it quietly but confidently.

"Ok." I reply. Shifting tactics quickly. I marshall my features into a look of concern and soften my voice "Would you like to talk about it?"

She looks up from her paperwork, clearly confused by my question. She shakes her head and a slight frown crosses her face.

"What do you need?" she asks flatly. The words catch me off guard. My mind flashing to all the other times I have heard her say those exact words. Her intonation is always different but the words always mean the same. She is prepared to help me with anything I ask. Simultaneously I think of Janine and how every request is met with sarcasm or a flirty undertone. A pattern that I surprisingly enjoy. However, her other habit of trying to manipulate me with emotion or physical affection has grown tiresome. I run through the many times I have let Janine think she has manipulated me. I feel relieved that Molly is not interested in controlling me or expressing her feelings. She will help me even if I don't apologize, even if she is angry with me.

I should have known I didn't need to pretend with her. I forgot how freeing it is to just be myself. Life will be much more comfortable when this case is over. I will be able to occupy my own flat and not have to worry about keeping my facade up. With that thought I respond brightly, rubbing my hands together.

"I require your assistance with shopping. It's for a case." Molly doesn't question. Not giving me the satisfaction of explaining. Instead she checks her watch.

"I can go for my lunch hour. Give me a few minutes." she busies herself with her paperwork.

I nod but I don't think she sees me. As I wait, I go over my plan for tonight, excitement building as I contemplate beating Magnusson. The man is truly vile and I can't help but feel a swell of pride when I think about how cleverly I have caught him. John will be very impressed when I reveal everything tonight. As I review the plan, it occurs to me that I don't know what to say when I actually ask Janine to marry me. I have just begun to puzzle through that speech when Molly interrupts me.

"Ready." she says and turns to leave without waiting. I come back to the present and follow her out.

* * *

The cab ride is silent. Sherlock seems engrossed in his thoughts and I don't feel like talking. I notice we are heading to a posh shopping area and almost against my will I ask:

"What are we shopping for?"

"Hmm. Yes. Rings. An engagement ring to be precise." I can't believe my ears.

"And this is for a case?"

"Yes. I need to purchase something very expensive and very on trend. You have experience with engagement rings. I expect you will be able to pick the right one." he doesn't even look at me when he speaks, he is examining the shops we are passing. I don't think he even recognizes that asking me to shop for rings after my failed engagement might be emotionally hard. His only thought is on my ability to complete the task. Horrifyingly, I can see his logic and find I am not really offended. Clearly I have spent too much time with Sherlock Holmes. I smile at the thought and then frown.

The cab slows and Sherlock reaches to pay. He gets out first and offers to help me. Once we are on the sidewalk he grips my hand and leans down to whisper in my ear.

"We will be posing as a couple. No real names. Act like you want to marry me." My mind whirls at his words but he doesn't give me time to collect my thoughts. He turns, his hand still holding mine, and pulls me across the street toward the jewelry shop.

* * *

**Poor Molly what has she gotten herself into! Sherlock is a pro at pretending to be in a relationship. This can only get worse...=)**


	3. Chapter 3

Molly's hand is warm and comfortable in mine. I am surprised how natural it feels. We step into the shop and release hands so we can remove our coats. I help Molly with hers and she gives me a strange look. I had assumed that Molly's latent affection for me would make it easy for her to act as my girlfriend. After all I can do it with Janine quite easily and I have no reserve of affection to rely on. Perhaps I underestimated her acting ability or her attachment to me. I try an encouraging smile and it seems to do the trick. She smiles back, a look of amusement in her eyes and slips her hand back into mine and leans into my body just as the salesman approaches. In the seconds before he speaks I see his commute, his entertainment habits, his status as a family man with a dog. I feel comfortable giving him the sizable commission from my impending ring purchase. He exchanges pleasantries and Molly handles them, allowing me time to continue to deduce the room. I finish quickly, finding exactly which glass case I want to look through. I tune back into the conversation to hear Molly, speaking in a higher register than normal, exclaim:

"I tried to tell him subtly with open web pages and the like, but he is a bit hopeless with clues." I can't help the chuckle that escapes my mouth. I respond, my experience with Janine taking over, by wrapping an arm around Molly's shoulders.

"I was smart enough to bring you with me." I say with an arch smile at her. I am happy to feel her arms snake around my waist as she responds with a smile.

"Well you got one thing right." she says before pressing her face into my chest for a quick hug. I feel her body stiffen and I look down to see a flash of anger or hurt in her eyes. She recovers quickly and turns back to the salesman with a smile plastered on her face. She is still stiff in my arms but the salesman doesn't notice and happily leads us to the ring cases.

Over the next half hour I watch as Molly unknowingly charms the salesman. She knows enough about rings to discuss them but not so much that the salesman feels his expertise challenged. She talks about how we met and how long we have been together She talks animatedly about our plans to move to a quieter part of London. Explaining that it would be better for the dog and would make it easier when we had kids. She talks so easily that the salesman doesn't seem to notice that I am barely participating in the conversation. I am only required to smile and make affirmative noises. This is good because I am certain my annoyance would surface if I talked to much. Molly is, as far as I can tell, pretending I am Tom. She doesn't tell about how we met in a morgue over a particularly interesting triple homicide. She talks about meeting me through friends and going to the pub together. All the little details she describes don't describe me at all. I always assumed that Tom was a poor substitute for me, but right now I can't help feeling that it is the other way around.

* * *

I grin at Conner as he puts away yet another ring. I am struggling to keep up the charade of being Sherlock's girlfriend and just want to be back in the quiet calm of the morgue. There I could think through everything. I could figure out why Sherlock smells like expensive female perfume. The smell is so strong, that I wonder how I didn't notice until I had hugged him. There is really only one way a man smells like a woman but I am trying to ignore that possibility. I am also ignoring the possibility that this shopping trip might not have anything to do with a case. Instead I am focusing on Conner and talking about Tom. It's easier to pass Sherlock off as Tom than to try and create stories about a fake relationship. And I am proud that I can tell these stories without crying. I am in the middle of telling a very animated story about a particularly romantic date when Sherlock interrupts me.

"Dear. What do you think of this one?" his tone sounds neutral enough but I sense that he wants to leave. I am more than happy to oblige. I look at the ring and let out a squeal of delight that I don't have to fake. Sherlock has great taste in jewelry.

"Oh. Sh-sweetie. I love it!" I exclaim clumsily. Conner pulls it out and I try it on. It fits perfectly. We discuss carats, clarity, and cut. It is a fantastic ring and I imagine it costs a fantastic price. I sneak a glance at Sherlock and he nods his approval. "I think this one is perfect." he replies. I smile trying desperately to look the excited fiancé-to-be.

"Well, gentlemen. I will let you talk. I am going to use the ladies." I turn to leave but Sherlock stops me.

"Don't be too long." His voice has a false tenderness to it and I can smell that perfume on him as he bends down. The combination makes me wince just as Sherlock leans in. I expect a light kiss on my cheek, instead he kisses my lips. I struggle to control my reaction. Half of me wants to pull away and half wants to kiss him hungrily. I manage not to do anything but stand rigid in shock. When he pulls away I feel relieved and barely register the frown that flashes across his face. I manage a shaky smile and walk quickly away.

* * *

**Ok so maybe Sherlock is the one in over his head. What do you think? Sherlock is so difficult to write in character! Who knows what goes on in his funny head! **


	4. Chapter 4

I watch Molly walk away with a growing sense of confusion. I am not sure why I decided to kiss her cheek or why her wince made me kiss her mouth instead. Nor do I understand why she seemed completely unmoved by my kiss. I thought I had become quite adept at kissing. The salesman clears his throat behind me. I shove away my thoughts and turn around with a smile.

"She seems like a wonderful woman. And she clearly loves you very much. " the salesman enthused.

"Really? Why do you say that?" I find myself asking.

"Oh. After working in this business long enough you just know." comes the unhelpful response.

"Ah." I say. I spend the next several minutes buying the ring. I refuse the offered bag and stick the ring box into my breast pocket, where it presses awkwardly against my chest. When Molly returns I am standing at the door with her coat. I slip it over her shoulders and, shockingly, feel an impulse to wrap her in a hug. My hands rest on her shoulders as I think about this sudden desire.

A surprising part of convincing Janine of my devotion has been physical contact. The normal kissing and handholding I had expected. But she also enjoys casual touching, a hand on the back, a squeezed shoulder, brushing hair away from her face, touching her cheek; these seemed to solidify her attachment to me. Once I recognized Janine's preference I spent a lot of energy ensuring I gave her those touches. It required a lot of thought to get them just right. I must have embedded the formula into a habit. A habit that was suddenly manifesting itself as an impulse to bestow similar touches on Molly. I couldn't help but wonder if Molly would also appreciate such physical contact. My mind flashed to her interactions with Tom. My observations seemed to confirm the hypothesis. Molly also enjoyed casual, gestures of affection. With that conclusion I decided to act on my impulse but before I could move she shrugs my hands from her shoulders. I feel anger and disappointment sparking in my chest.

"I need to get back to work." she mumbles.

"Of course. " I reply, frustrated and confused as we walk onto the street.

* * *

The cab stutters and stops in the London traffic. The trip back to Bart's is taking a lifetime. Allowing me too much time to think and too much time with Sherlock. I feel a great sense of dread, as my need to talk with Sherlock grows. This conversation will not end well.

I am convinced that Sherlock is involved with the bridesmaid from the wedding. It took me awhile to place her perfume but I finally recognized it. Which leads me to the incredible idea that Sherlock just bought a ring for a woman he barely knows. The thought makes me want to vomit. I gave up on Sherlock because I thought he could never be in a relationship. I moved on because I couldn't live my life waiting for him. Now it seems that he could be in a relationship, just not with me. Because, no matter what he has said or implied in the past, I am still nothing more than a convenient tool to Sherlock Holmes. He doesn't need my compassion or friendship, he only needs the skills I can bring to his cases. The thought should make me angry, instead I feel hollow inside and my eyes sting with tears.

I turn and lean my head against the window. Biting my lip I feel little streams coursing down my cheeks. I don't wipe them away, afraid Sherlock will notice the movement. Then his hand is under my nose, offering his handkerchief. Who keeps handkerchief's in this day and age? I wonder, before remembering how useful they would be at crime scenes. I should take it but I know that if I do I will say "thank you" and I don't want to say anything nice to Sherlock.

I stare out the window. My reflection stares back at me and I speak; almost to myself.

"Have you ever heard the story of the man who saves a dying snake on the side of a cold mountain? The snake asks the man to put him in his jacket and take him down the mountain so he won't die. The man refuses because the snake is poisonous and he doesn't want to get bitten. But the snake begs him, the snake promises that he won't bite the man. The man is kind. He pities the snake and eventually he gives in. He picks the snake up, wraps him inside his coat and carries him down off the cold mountain. When they get somewhere nice and sunny, the man opens his jacket to pull the snake out. But when he reaches in the snake bites him. The man falls to the ground as the poison takes hold. He looks at the snake with disbelief and says "But you promised!" The snake just shakes his head and says "It is my nature to bite. You knew what I was when you picked me up." Then the snake slithers away and the man dies." I sigh. "What do you think that story means Sherlock?"

"It seems to be a warning against sentiment. If the man had acted logically he would have lived." comes the response. I nod.

"So you would argue against picking up poisonous snakes?"

"Obviously Molly." comes the short reply.

"What if you already picked it up? What if you thought putting it down would break your heart?" I ask.

"Molly. What are you talking about?" He sounds frustrated. I imagine his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow but I don't look away from the window. If I look at him I think my resolve will crumble.

"I knew what you were when I picked you up Sherlock Holmes. I knew but I convinced myself that you would change. That you wouldn't bite me. And now I can only blame myself. " I let out a bark of laughter.

"If this is about my drug use. I told you it is for a case." He says and something in his voice pulls my head around. My wet eyes find his pale blue ones.

"No Sherlock. This is about me. This is about self-preservation." I can tell that Sherlock doesn't understand and I find I have no desire to explain it to him.

I take a deep breath and speak the words that will break my heart or maybe free it.

"Sherlock, I can't help you anymore. Find a new lab, a new pathologist. Stop using my flat as a bolt hole and stop using me for help with cases." I can't help the note of sarcasm that creeps into my voice on the word cases but otherwise I am happy with the steadiness of my voice. The silence in the cab stretches and I feel a large weight lifting off of me. But it comes crashing back down when Sherlock speaks.

* * *

**Sorry to leave it on a bit of a cliff hanger. But I did let Molly say what needed to be said. I love Sherlolly but their relationship is very problematic. I hope to resolve some of those problems by the end of this fic. =) Oh and thanks so much for the reviews! I love hearing your thoughts! It is so motivating. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow Chapter 5! This fic was supposed to be short but boy has it evolved! It has grown so much that this chapter is just Sherlock's POV. Enjoy!**

* * *

The thoughts and emotions raging inside me are difficult to contain. I want to stop the cab; to get out and pace, or run, or hit something. I can't process the concept that Molly Hooper wants to cut me out of her life. I evaluate my information. She was clearly uncomfortable in the ring shop. She was very angry with me after the drug test. But she just said it wasn't about the drug use. She said it was about her. She had called me a snake. Implied that I had bitten her. So obviously it was something I did. But what? What?

Since I had returned I thought our friendship had grown. Molly seemed more at ease with me and consequently I had gotten to know her much better. I had made considerable effort to treat both her and her fiancé with respect. Keeping many of my observations to myself and even asking polite, social questions. I feel betrayed by Molly's sudden demand that I exit her life. It makes no sense. No matter how I examine my information I am unable to come to a conclusion. I need more data. I come out of my mind palace and speak.

"I know that relationships and emotions are not really my area. I don't,… I didn't, really have friends. I am not always sure about the proper social conventions. But I am fairly certain that friends don't break off contact with each other for no reason. I am left to conclude that you have a reason for summarily dismissing me from your life. However, I am unable to deduce what that reason could possibly be. So please enlighten me." I can't help the bitter tone that hangs over my every word. I feel wildly out of control and confused. It is an unfamiliar and distasteful feeling. I wait for her answer. I watch as her face goes from astonished, to frustrated.

"I can't explain. It's complicated" she mutters. I am annoyed at her lack of explanation. I need to understand. I need to know. I hate not knowing things. I hate it even more when I miss things. Clearly in the case of Molly Hooper, I have missed something. I study her small dejected frame trying to discover the missing clue but I see nothing but her sadness. I take a deep breath, willing my voice to be calm and steady.

"Molly. Tell me what's wrong."

"Sherlock I…." she stops looking down at her hands. She takes a deep breath and begins again. "The first time I met you. I thought you were a heartbreaker. I knew, see, right from the start. But I let myself fall, I fell so far, so very far. And you never…you didn't…you can't feel the same way. Then you were gone and I thought my heart would never be the same. But I met Tom and I loved him and we were going to spend our life together. But you came back. You came back and I fell, I fell right back into my habit of always giving you what you wanted. And I lost Tom because…because…of you. And I will never be able to have any relationship as long as you are in my life. Because you will always be first and he, whoever he is, will always be second. So the only solution is to remove you from my life. Maybe then I can find someone who I can put first." Molly finished her rambling speech on a whisper.

I evaluate the information she has provided trying to focus on the important points.

"You blame me for your engagement ending?" I ask. She nods in response.

"Because you put me first; you always do what I need?" She nods again.

"And you feel the only solution, the only way to keep me from ruining further relationships, is to cut me out of your life?" This time I nod with her.

"Did it ever occur to you that you could just say no?" I say it with a smile but she doesn't see it. She is shaking her head.

"I have tried Sherlock. I really have. But I can't say no to you. I will always want to help you. I don't know how to stop. And what scares me is that most of the time I don't want to stop. It's not healthy."

I am surprised by her words. Does she truly feel that she can't say "no" to me? The idea is very alien. If I don't want to do something I refuse. I have no worries about upsetting the other person or fulfilling an obligation. I always felt that Molly helped me willingly. I don't force her to do anything. If she told me "no" I would respect her decision.

Unbidden, John's voice rings in my head, "Liar!". I feel a wave of shame because I know he is right. I remember times that Molly tried to say "no" and I charmed or bullied her into saying "yes". Begrudgingly I realize Molly is right. The thought pains me. I don't want to remove Molly from my life. But I owe her my life and she deserves to be happy. I want her to be happy. Even if that means I have to disappear from her life.

I realize that the cab is slowing in front of St. Bart's. I feel a wave of panic; these might be the last moments I spend with her. I try to memorize every detail of this moment. The cab stops and I climb out, offering my hand to help Molly. We stand facing each other on the sidewalk. I look her in the eyes and say as earnestly as I can.

"I will respect your decision. I will find a new lab and I will remove myself from your life. But I will miss you, Molly Hooper. I hope you will be very happy."

I watch as a single tear slides down her cheek. I lift my hand and wipe it away with the pad of my thumb. I am suddenly aware of how close we are standing. I feel an almost magnetic pull drawing me to her. Molly murmurs "Sod it!" and grabs the lapel of my coat. Her lips seek mine and we kiss.

It is an action I have become very familiar with in the last month but with Molly it feels completely different. Her lips are soft and hesitant; not demanding or teasing. She only applies the briefest of pressure before pulling away and I look down into her eyes, seeing a question and somehow knowing the answer.

My hands fly to her face and I pull her back to my lips. My body electrifies at the contact and all my attention becomes fixed on the pleasure of her lips and tongue intertwining with mine. I am lost to the sensations and I can't imagine wanting to stop.

But we do stop, Molly pulls away to answer her phone. I am frustrated at the interruption. I wonder if this is what kissing is supposed to be like. This animalistic need building in your body, setting everything on fire. Is this what everyone feels when they kiss? If so why didn't kissing Janine feel like this? I detach from my thoughts to hear Molly say

"No. I am here. Just outside. I will be right in." She hangs up and clears her throat.

"I have to go. I…" she doesn't finish her sentence but steps back and sticks out her hand instead. I reach for it instinctively.

"Goodbye Sherlock Holmes. It was a pleasure working with you." her forced professionalism can't hide the shine of unshed tears. I take her hand with both of mine.

"Goodbye Molly Hooper." I say steadily. She smiles a brief half-smile and then turns walking into St. Bart's and out of my life.

* * *

**So Sherlock does the decent thing and bows out gracefully...the end! **

**Ha! Fat chance! I am going for a much happier ending! Hope you enjoyed! As always your thoughts and reviews are appreciated! I am still amazed at how a little story from my computer is being read all around the world!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Once again this is only in one POV. Hope you enjoy being in Molly's head! **

* * *

The silence of the morgue contains a strange but familiar comfort. Most people find the cold and the bodies disconcerting or creepy but I find a beautiful peace here. I need that peace right now. It has been hours since I left Sherlock on the sidewalk but my mind seems unable to move from those moments. I can't decide what surprised me more, his acceptance of my decision or his energetic response to my kiss. I touch my lips at the memory.

At the time I thought only that I wanted to kiss him just once before I said goodbye. I didn't expect anything more than a quick, unsatisfying peck. But I had gotten much, much, more, enough to send my heart racing and my mind buzzing. I can't figure out why Sherlock responded like that. Maybe he was giving me one last gift but I thought I felt real passion. He seemed disappointed when we stopped. I shake my head. It was a fantastic kiss and if only it had meant the beginning of something not the end.

I sigh. Letting my mind circle away from the warm glowing memory of the kiss and forward to my dark unknowable future. I had lived for two years without Sherlock Holmes. I know I can do it again. But last time I had Tom and for the seventh time in the last hour I think about calling him. I pull out my phone and stare at the screen.

I hear the double doors swing open and quickly put my phone back in my lab coat.

"One second." I call to the lab tech as I hurriedly check the paperwork.

"Molly." I nearly drop my clipboard at the sound of his deep voice. I turn around and take in his long coat and scarf. A sight I never thought I would see again. Before I can speak he starts.

"I know you don't want to see me but I need to say something." I nod, quietly willing him to continue. He looks slightly embarrassed and takes a deep breath before plunging into his speech.

"Molly. I love you. I want to be with you. I am willing to move past what has happened if you stop seeing Sherlock Holmes. I know you will have to work with him. I can handle it if you only work together. If the relationship is strictly professional, I think…I mean… I will try not to be jealous. I just don't want to loose you Molly." I am surprised by how mixed my emotions are in this moment. I thought I wanted Tom back. But I don't feel as excited as I expected. I just smile and take a step toward him. He closes the rest of the space and envelopes me in his arms.

"God. I've missed you." he says into my hair. And I realize that I haven't missed him all that much. I missed the things he did for me. I missed having someone to talk to about my life. But I can't think of a single thing about Tom I have really missed. I don't want to hurt his feelings so I murmur

"Me too."

He pulls away from the hug to look me in the eye and says: " Good. So you promise? You will only see Sherlock in a strictly professional setting?"

He is asking a question but somehow it feels like he is giving me an ultimatum. Irrationally I bristle at his insistence that I make a promise. There is no reason to be upset. I have already cut ties with Sherlock. Tom is asking me to do what I have already done. I am being ridiculous. I push away my pride and look Tom square in the eye.

"Tom. I won't be helping Sherlock any more. I told him to find someone else to work with." Tom smiles with pure joy and ducks his head, capturing my lips with his.

I keep the kiss short. I don't want to kiss him so soon after kissing Sherlock. It feels like a betrayal. Though I am not sure who I am betraying. When we pull apart we just smile at each other and I start to feel a glimmer of hope.

The sound of a throat clearing causes both of us to turn. My heart drops and I shift away from Tom.

"Sher-Sherlock?" I sputter in confusion at the man casually leaning against the wall. How long had he been there?

"Molly. May I have a word?" He gestures to the outside hall and I feel myself taking a step toward him. But Tom puts a restraining hand on my shoulder.

"Sorry but anything you need to say to Molly you can say in front of me." Tom speaks boldly, raising himself to his full height.

"Tom it's fine. It will only take a minute." I say quietly. Immediately I know it is the wrong thing to say. His cheeks flush and a look of anger and disappointment rushes across his face.

"Molly. You just said. You just promised! What could he possibly have to say that I can't hear?" his voice begins to rise and as it does it echoes around the morgue. Sherlock's deep baritone cuts over the echoes.

"You are absolutely right Tom." he begins in an acidic tone. He turns to me with a smirk on his face. "Molly I would like to talk about the engagement ring we just bought and the kiss we just shared." I grin at Sherlock's words. I can't help myself, his delivery is so perfect. Sherlock's sense of humor isn't obvious to everyone but it is one of my favorite things about him.

Then Tom turns to me in disbelief and I drop my smile, but not quick enough. He looks from me to Sherlock, anger and betrayal written all over his face. Clearly he doesn't find the situation the least bit funny.

"Unbelievable. You would rather beg for scraps from this narcissistic, psychotic, piece of…." I don't wait to hear what else he has to say.

"Stop it." I say loudly. And something in my voice draws him up short. He stares at me and then throws up his hands.

"Sod this." he says and walks out of the room.

"Laters." Sherlock calls after him smugly.

I watch the double doors swing behind him and I know I don't feel as bad as I should. Maybe it is for the best? I sigh and turn to Sherlock. He is grinning and I can only shake my head and smile back.

"See. This is what I was talking about." I say, gesturing to the door. Trying to work up the anger I should feel but finding that I am just happy to see him again.

"Yes. I see." he replies, his face suddenly serious. Unbidden the memory of his lips on mine flashes through my brain. My cheeks flush and I remember the reason Sherlock gave for his unexpected (and unauthorized) visit. I am about to ask him why he is here when he speaks.

"Molly, I would like to conduct an I experiment." he says seriously. I suddenly have no problem being angry. It floods my body. I realize the mistake I just mad with Tom. Because of course Sherlock-bloody-Holmes would never respect my wishes. Of course he would ruin my second chance with Tom all for a bloody experiment!

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**So that's my brief take on Tom. He is a bit of a blank page but I think this is in character for what little we know of him. Did you like it? I was going for funny so I hope that translated. Also THANKS once again for all the lovely reviews! That you enjoy enough to write means so much! You guys seriously pump me up! I think there are two chapters left so hang in there! **


	7. Chapter 7

Molly is angry with me. It doesn't take a brilliant detective to discern that fact. But I came here for a reason and I won't back down. Even if she does slap me, which at this moment seems like a real possibility. As she advances towards me I quickly review the salient points of my argument.

Since watching Molly walk away I had dwelt almost exclusively in my mind palace. Much to the delight of my cabbie, who probably quit for the day on the money I paid him. Reviewing multiple scenarios I had come to my conclusion very quickly. However it had taken much more time for me to feel comfortable approaching Molly with my idea. Several times the cab had stopped in front of St. Barts and each time I had belatedly decided not to go in. Each time I had a different reason why I should wait and would ask the driver to take me back to Baker Street. Only to have him turn around when a new sense of urgency overtook me. It was a strange sensation being unable to commit to a plan. I rarely question my decisions but somehow this situation was different. That fact alone made me reluctant to talk with Molly.

I was sitting in the cab about to leave, yet again, when I saw Tom entering the hospital. I felt a deep outrage at seeing him and suddenly knew that I had to talk to Molly immediately.

By the time I found them at the morgue Molly was telling Tom that we would no longer be working together. Then they kissed and my stomach lurched. I had never reacted like this before when seeing Molly and Tom together. But now I felt a strong desire to throw the stupid man out of the room. This all only strengthened my resolve to consult with Molly.

Tom was easily dispatched, he is laughably easy to manipulate. Molly seemed strangely fine with the exit of her once fiancé. Her smiles and lack of anger gave me courage and it was only then that I realized I had been lacking in courage.

However that courage is quickly draining away as Molly advances with murder in her eyes. I decide to do what I normally do in awkward emotional conversations. Try and talk about it as logically and quickly as possible. Energy fills me as I begin to speak and I start pacing.

"Since leaving you I have been puzzling over a way to solve our predicament. You say, and Tom has clearly demonstrated, that you cannot be in a relationship with anyone because of…ah…your association with me. Your solution is to remove me from your life. A solution that I initially agreed to and fully intended to comply with." Molly snorts in disbelief but I ignore her. "However I think I have a much better solution to your predicament." I stop pacing and run my hand through my hair. I am finding it difficult to continue. God, I am as bad as John. Molly seizes upon the silence.

"Sherlock. I wish there was another way. I do, believe me, I do. But I th-…" I raise a hand and she stops speaking.

"I propose…that is I suggest that…" I stop again and look hesitantly at her. She only looks confused. I take a deep breath. "I propose that you become my girlfriend." I wait for her response but she only looks baffled. Clearly she requires more explanation.

"If you can't associate with me because it endangers your ability to have a relationship. Then it seems obvious that you should have a relationship with me. That way we can work together and you can have a relationship. It's an elegant solution." I flash her my most charming smile. My heart is galloping and I feel anxiety creeping over me.

Why doesn't she say anything?

She shakes her head and speaks

"You want to take me on a date?" she asks as if she can't believe her own words. I frown. Molly is not normally this slow. Maybe I haven't been clear.

"No. Well yes." I run my hand through my hair. How had this gotten so confusing? "Yes. We will go on dates. But I am proposing that we have a relationship. Which, as I understand it, entails a lot more than just dates." Molly frowns.

"I thought you came here for an experiment?" She asks.

"That is the experiment. We will attempt to function as a couple for six months and then evaluate the results. If we are both satisfied then the relationship will advance. If not the relationship will end and I will abide by the previous agreement to never see you."

Suddenly Molly starts to laugh."Sherlock! That is just…that's ridiculous." she says between laughs.

I feel my shoulders droop and my brow furrow in confusion. I fail to see the humor. Clearly I have misunderstood something. I feel embarrassed and think wildly of leaving the room.

"I am glad you find my proposal amusing." I say icily before turning on my heel and stalking for the door.

"Wait." she calls. "You are serious?" I turn back an angry frustration taking hold.

"Of course I am serious!" I wave my arms for emphasis. "Why would I suggest it if I wasn't serious?"

Molly looks down contritely and bites her lip. "Sorry." she says. Unexpectedly this calms me down and I take a deep breath. The morgue is silent and I watch as emotions glide across Molly's face. She is clearly thinking seriously about my proposal so I watch and wait. Finally she speaks.

"Sherlock. I am really flattered by your…erm…suggestion. You are right it is an elegant solution. But I don't think that convenience is the best foundation for a relationship." I attempt to protest but she keeps speaking. "A relationship needs to be based on mutual affection, on love and respect. Not just because you don't want to find a new pathologist." Her voice is steady but I sense sadness behind her words.

John always accuses me of assuming that everyone understands situations the same way I do. I apparently make a very annoying face. He thinks I do it mockingly, as a way to show-off. But in truth there are things I find genuinely obvious that other people miss completely. I don't want to insult their intelligence by over-explaining but then I manage to insult them by NOT explaining. It is one of the many reasons I have difficulty with what Moriarty called "ordinary people" However, I rarely have this problem with Molly. She is very intelligent and observant. The day we spent working cases together we practically spoke in short hand to each other. Sometimes we communicated only in glances. It is something we often do in the lab but it was exciting to see it translated in a new environment. Molly seems to see me and understand me when others don't. Based on all of this and the fact that I have made a point to tell her how important she is on several occasions, I assumed she understood how I felt. Obviously, I was wrong (wouldn't be the first time).

I blow out a puff of air in frustration and walk up to her. I take her by the shoulders and she looks up at me questioningly. I intend to tell her that I do respect her and that I have a strong affection for her. Before I can speak my eyes are caught by her tongue snaking out to moisten her lips. The next thing I know we are kissing. I forget what I was going to say and become absorbed in the kiss. This time I pay more attention to Molly. I place my hand on her neck and feel the pounding of her heartbeat. I observe her breathing and the sounds she makes; quietly cataloguing what she enjoys most. I feel her hands snake through my hair and delight in their soft tugs and massaging. Time becomes elastic and I forget how long we have been standing, learning about each other.

"Oh! My!" a male voice breaks over us. Molly jumps away from me. Her face red, her lips swollen, her hair tangled.

"Dr. Stamford." she cries embarrassed. "I am so sorry. I…I mean we…" I turn to Mike. Frustrated at the interruption

"Mike. Dr. Hooper and I are very busy with a new experiment. Leave." I don't even try to be polite and Mike doesn't argue. He just looks amazed before turning and walking away. I move back towards Molly, intent on continuing. She backs away and raises a hand

"Hold it." At my quiet growl of frustration, she smiles. "I just need to get a few things straight." I wait impatiently for her to continue.

"I am going to make the deduction that you enjoy kissing." I smile back at her.

"In general I have not enjoyed kissing but I very much enjoy kissing you." I reply truthfully. She pauses and then continues.

"And when you told me that I counted and that you trusted me. You were being honest?" she asks.

"Of course." I say irritably.

"And I matter…I mean you said I matter the most. So you actually like me?" she says hesitantly.

I groan. "Molly Hooper if I didn't like you I wouldn't spend time with you. If I didn't trust you I wouldn't come to you when I need help. If you didn't matter I wouldn't have told you that you did. If I didn't respect you I wouldn't let you run my experiments or trust your autopsy reports. I don't suffer fools and I don't associate with people I don't like."

A small glowing smile spreads across her face it suffuses her with a rare kind of beauty and I feel a swell of pride that I am the cause of such happiness.

"Sherlock Holmes. I accept the conditions of your experiment. I will be your girlfriend."

I smile back. A surge of electricity zings through my chest.

"Are you sure you understand all the duties of a boyfriend." She asks jokingly. I smile down at her.

"Absolutely. Janine has made the requirements very clear." I say as I smooth her hair back. She looks suddenly confused.

"Wait. Who is Janine?"

The End!

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_**Authors Note: Poor Sherlock. The guy can't win for trying. Still I think he and Molly will be very happy. Once they work through all the Janine stuff. Which leads me to a question...I feel like this is the end of this story. It's already gotten longer than intended and I like this ending. If I write the next scene I may end up with 4 more and the story spiraling away from its origins. I have thought of doing a sequel fic that will take place in the hospital and includes a Janine and Molly meeting. And would explore what happens right after this scene. Anyway I would love to know your thoughts on this and the chapter. Once again THANKS so much for reading and loving these characters as much as I do! **_


	8. Chapter 8

So no new chapter...Sorry!

But because of all your lovely input I am doing a sequel. It's called Going to Hospital (trying to keep the Going part of the title) and the first chapter is up! Thanks so much for your reviews and thoughts. I had such a grand time writing and hearing from you guys. Hope you enjoy the new one!


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